Waiting For Heaven
by secretaryofsillywalks
Summary: Oneshot. It’s odd what a man thinks of as he waits in an outrageously long line. Sirius contemplates as he waits to pass through the pearly gates


**disclaimer: I dont own harry potter ):**

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Glancing once again at his gold watch, a gift from the Potter family on his 17th birthday, Sirius tried not to let out a huff of annoyance.

He tried not to fidget. His mother's voice -no, screeching- reverberated through his brain: _stop moving, it's unbecoming of a Black, be still_.

He crossed his arms to avoid the temptation of looking at his watch. Again. He tapped his foot impatiently, causing several heads to turn and glare.

What was taking so long?

Sirius craned his neck around the shoulders of the burly man standing in front of him. If he squinted he could see the beginning of the line. This time he swore - quite loudly - earning himself several more admonishing glares.

The line, oh, the line! It was so long! Had any of theses people ever heard of efficiency? Obviously not, as he had been standing here (another glance at his watch) for over two hours. Torture, that's what this was. His legs ached and he was bored.

The line inched forward.

For the first time in his life, or ever, Sirius Black was at a loss. It was getting so bad that he was now referring to himself in the third person! He simply didn't know what to do to.

He had already ruined any chance for conversation - not that he would have wanted to converse with any of the stiff-lipped snobs here. The one person who he'd wanted to chat up, a pretty brunette, was (he discovered upon further inspection) neither pretty nor brunette - nor female, for that matter. He had quickly turned around and studied the patterns in the marble floor so intensely he begun to believe the floor had wronged him at one point. He had even found himself wondering if he could burn letters into it, like that one Muggle super-what's-it that Lily always talked about.

Another step forward.

Is that man wearing a dress?

With nothing to do short of …well, nothing, Sirius took to reexamining his surroundings. Truth be told, it was nothing like he had expected. Where were the clouds? Ghosts? Harps? Pearly Gates?

Upon his arrival here he thought Remus and Harry had brought him to St. Mungo's. Alas, that was not that case. The only difference between here and the emergency ward at St. Mungo's was the ridiculously long line.

Okay, so that was a lie.

The building was bigger, of course, and had a slightly ominous echo. Other than the sound of pages being turned and the footsteps, there wasn's a sound. Honestly, everyone was so gloomy! It was - dare he say it? – pretty. The tall stained glass windows let in colored rays of light.It reminded him of those windows in the prefects' bathroom with the mermaids . It made him long for a bubble bath.

He used to sneak into that bathroom after Quidditch practice. Moony had reluctantly given him the passwords.

Heels were clicking and echoing and annoying and distracting Sirius from his happy memories of the prefect bathroom. Tearing his gaze from the windows, he located the source of the grating noise.

A young mother carrying her kid walked past him, past the rest of the people near him, past most of the line.

Oh! That – _oh_, unfair!

He thought of a thousand and three names to call the line- hopping woman as she wedged her way between a man with handlebar mustaches and a woman dressed as a chef. It looked like he wasn't the only one bristling with indignation. Was that even a word? He wasn't sure. He didn't care, either.

For a brief moment he wondered what the kid's name was. Hopefully, not something as atrocious as Bellatrix.

Guessing names was an old game he and his brother used to play, back before Sirius was old enough to go to Hogwarts. He'd played it with James, too. He loved that game. He and James would sit on a bench in Diagon Alley and give names to all the people walking by. Occasionally they would yell the names out, trying to get a person to turn around and look for whoever called them. They got pretty good at it too.

Sirius recalled a particularly exhilarating escape from Death Eaters on his motorbike that involved two Muggle policemen. He decided to name the kid "Elvendork" . After all, he couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl, and with a name like Elvendork it didn't matter. He recalled wanting to rename Buckbeak Elvendork, but Hagrid has insisted on Witherwings (stupid name, really).

Another glance at his watch. Three hours.

Perhaps the line would move faster if he glared at it. No such luck.

He wished it would shrink, that maybe the floor would open up and send dozens to Hell and allow those of a courageous and Gryffindor nature to be closer to entering paradise.

If he were James, he wouldn't have this problem. He was willing to bet 100 galleons that James didn't have to wait this long.

Line-Jumper and Elvendork were now at the counter.

He was now only - a quick count - 17 people away! How long had he been glaring? If he wasn't surrounded by these humorless sea urchins (or concerned for his own sanity) , he would have done a jig. He opted to do the jig (okay, it was more of a tango) in his head.

There was a flash of gold as he checked the time. A woman in slippers and horrible makeup hissed angrily as the light reflected off his watch and into her eye. Good, she deserved it; Sirius wasn't going to apologize, not if she wore rollers in her hair in public.

He could see the counter.

He was somewhat appalled as the clerk told the old woman – "Granny", he called her- to drop and give him ten. She looked pretty old and wrinkled, but she dropped to the floor and did ten perfect pushups. Sirius was amazed: he didn't think he could do that...heck, he didn't even know what the man meant when he said "drop and give me ten."

The clerk smiled and allowed Granny to shuffle through a door to the right.

He can hear the conversations taking place at the desk now.

"Name…cause…You can enter….Name…cause…You can enter."

A few answers ( "Chainsaw" , "lava", "six-fingered man") made Sirius wonder about the state of humanity , while others ("no, seriously, a side of fava beans." , "…barbed wire wrapped around a fan….") unnerved him.

At last, his turn!

"Erm, hello," - he looked at the name tag of the clerk - "Peter." Hm, so this was St. Peter.

Peter did not look amused. "Name?"

"Sirius Black," he shuffled his feet and tried not to play with his sleeves.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Ah, yes, Sirius Black, how could I not have known? I've heard of you."

"You have? I—uh, I mean - yeah, who hasn't though? Ha-ha! " Oh lord. He had let out a nervous giggle. His voice had cracked and he giggled. Giggled!

"Cause?"

Sirius paused to gather his thoughts, "Rescue mission gone awry."

"That's the circumstances Black, what actually caused your death?"

"I…fell…"

"You fell?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Through a, uhm, arch-thing," a curtain. A curtain killed him, but he wasn't going to say that "- during the rescue mission."

"I see. It says here that you fell through The Veil." What was the point of asking the cause of death if he already knew? No wonder it took so long.

"Huh. Yeah….it's an arch…of-of death…." Stupid little man had the nerve to narrow his eyes even more!

"Obviously, or you would not be here! You may enter. NEXT!"

Sirius skittered, yes, skittered, toward the wooden door. So much for pearly gates.

He stood, hand on the circular knob, preparing himself.

He heard the ugly non brunette man telling Peter that he had an unfortunate accident with a group of lumberjacks. Deep breath.

He opened the door, ready to finally gain peace and see James, Lily and so many others he loved once more, and stepped through.

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**So, thoughts? **


End file.
